


knocked (further) off-course

by swwf17



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, DC comics - Freeform, Family Feels, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 15:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swwf17/pseuds/swwf17
Summary: WHAT IF: Kara didn’t end up in Midvale after arriving on Earth?





	knocked (further) off-course

The news that Bruce Wayne has acquired another orphan passes without much fanfare—a modest mention in the society pages overshadowed by a front page splash dedicated to the latest masked lunatic to cause a traffic jam down on Hearst. Clark chafes at the article, at that much attention; he’s used to hiding behind shared bylines and a pair of glasses.

Bruce can tell that his friend is having second thoughts. He can see it in the slight furrow of his brow, the white knuckle grip on the latest edition of  _The Gotham Gazette._

But Bruce isn’t in the habit of polite reassurances. He leaves Clark to his reservations—there’s work to be done.

Work that Kara only has a passing awareness of; she knows her cousin ‘works’ with Bruce, knows that those dark rumors about the crazy man in a bat suit are half true. Sometimes, as she’s rushing to get ready for school, hands tangled in the necktie of her uniform, she’ll pause by the grandfather clock in the library.

She could pry it open, if she wanted to. It wouldn’t even be hard.

But then Dick will appear at her side, ready with a corny joke and an easy smile, already reaching to fix her tie. He’ll ask her about Krypton, about her powers. He’s endlessly curious, and doesn’t seem to care that he might be prying.

“Tell me more about Nightwing,” Dick begs when homework becomes too boring for words.

Kara, who is as curious about Earth as Dick is about Krypton, is reluctant to put down her book on the Dutch Masters.

“Please?”

She’s halfway through the story of Flamebird when she notices Dick’s gaze is fixed behind her.

“Be back in a bit, Kara,” he murmurs quietly. Kara turns just in time to see Dick and Bruce disappear down the hallway, and there’s a flash of jealousy, hot and bright, almost like her heat vision. She’s just as much a Wayne as Dick is— _more so_ , even.  _Kara Wayne._ Printed in black ink on the forged papers that Bruce was somehow able to procure. Dick is still a Grayson. She should be with them; she should be part of the  secret Bruce Wayne keeps in the cave beneath the manor.

But Kara’s also an alien in high school—a place where even the most average of humans feel ostracized and awkward. She has papers to write and superpowers to hide. She tells herself she can’t handle another huge secret in her life, right now.

So she lets them go.

(That Alfred should appear mere moments later with a cup of hot chocolate is no coincidence. She hugs him as tight as she dares, and only hears one joint pop.  _Progress._ )

* * *

At sixteen, Kara is a head taller than Dick. At eighteen, Dick finally catches up. He teaches her how to drive a motorcycle as a graduation gift.

Clark sends a card; Bruce tells her that he won’t be able to attend the ceremony—if he  _did_ , it would turn into a circus. Price of being famous and all that.

In lieu of a gift, Bruce tells her she can go to whichever college she wants. He’ll foot the tuition, she’ll be debt free.

“Get out of Gotham while you can,” Dick tells her. Jovially, of course, but even  _he_  is beginning to grow tired of Bruce’s One Man Crusade; she knows he’s been looking into apartments in Bludhaven.

“I’d miss Alfred too much,” Kara tells him. It’s very true.

* * *

She’s enrolled in the fall semester at GCU when Commissioner Gordon goes missing. It’s all over the news. Kara watches the ongoing coverage with growing anxiety. She knows the commissioner’s daughter—they go to school together. Dick is hopelessly in love with her but refuses to do anything about it. …Well. Aside from being insufferable.

_This has nothing to do with Batman,_ Kara tells herself, because it’s easier to imagine that the Commissioner has been dragged into the undercurrent of corruption that runs through Gotham like a sewer. Sad, really, to hope for a drug bust gone bad. But that’s Gotham for you—where the other option is always,  _frighteningly_  worse.

She doesn’t see Dick  _or_  Bruce for three days straight. She hounds Alfred, but Alfred seems just as worried as she is.

Dick and Bruce eventually show up on the same day that the news breaks about Commissioner Gordon and the Joker.

“…What happened?” Kara asks. Dick is slumped at the counter in the kitchen, trademark smile nowhere to be seen. Bruce—Kara suspects he’s down in the cave.

“…I don’t know…” Dick says. And at first Kara wants to throttle him because it’s another one of his secrets— _their_  secrets, but he turns and looks at her and there is nothing but defeat in his eyes. “I really don’t know.”

Kara’s at the grandfather clock before Dick can so much as blink. She tears it aside easily—as easily as she’d always imagined it would be—and sprints down the steps before she has a chance to talk herself out of it.

The dark stairs seem to stretch on forever; an eternity passes before she’s standing beneath buzzing halogen lights, staring at a collection of dusty computer equipment, a cluster of workbenches.

A tall, guttering shadow.

“I want to help,” Kara blurts, not entirely sure where those words come from. It certainly wasn’t what she’d been planning to say, but she doesn’t take them back.

Bruce doesn’t even turn to look at her.

“… _No.”_

_No._  It’s the same answer she’s been receiving for the last six years, ever since her cousin ripped the canopy off her pod and decided,  _no, you can’t stay with me_.

“I’m faster than Dick. Stronger. I…I can’t get hurt!” Kara sputters. “You should train  _me_. I can do everything my cousin can!”

She thinks. She hopes.

“You’re dangerous,” Bruce says, still turned away.

Kara steps closer. “I’m not!”

“You are,” Bruce counters with the patience of someone used to winning arguments. “Because you’re  _angry.”_

Well, Kara’s certainly angry  _now_ , but that’s only because this entire conversation is stupid. She could handle the criminals in Gotham city  _no problem,_  and no one would have to get hurt. Dick would be safe, and Barbara’s dad would still be alive, and Bruce wouldn’t have to keep  _torturing_  himself…

“ _I’m not!”_  Kara shouts, and she can’t help the blue haze that falls over her vision it just…it happens. That’s all.

Bruce finally turns around, face obscured by the chiseled cowl. She’s never seen it up close before. Only in blurry pictures in  _The Gotham Gazette._  He ignores the heat vision just barely contained in Kara’s fierce gaze.

“You are,” he says gently—it’s a tone she’s never heard him use.

And she’s about to shout  _what do you know_  but the fact is, Bruce is right. He’s  _always_  right. It’s the most annoying thing about him.

She’s angry. Angry at herself for keeping her powers to herself and not helping. Angry at Bruce, for being such an awful guardian. Angry at Dick for having a better relationship with the enigmatic man. Angry at Clark for failing to provide a sense of home. Angry that all of this even had to  _happen_  in the first place, why couldn’t they fix Krypton? Why… _why?_

It’s…awkward, trying to hug someone dressed in full body armor, but Kara doesn’t care. Because everything’s kind of awful and she’s tired of pretending it isn’t.

The Kevlar’s cold against the side of her face, and for a moment, Bruce just  _stands there_ , like a big, bulletproof lump. But after a time he fits his arms around her, careful not to poke her with one of the spikes on his gantlets.

And Kara just…cries.

It seems so ridiculous. Surrounded by all the wealth Bruce had to offer, by Alfred, and Dick, even Babs, on the rare occasion she’d come over to make fun of Dick and pester Kara about AP classes…all these  _good things_  in her life that aren’t nearly as healing as a simple  _hug._

A very weird hug, in an underground cave created by a man with a bat fixation.

For all his faults, however, Bruce doesn’t push Kara away, and lets her cry for as long as she needs to.

After a time, Kara’s shoulder stop heaving, and the crying calms to sniffles.

“…I’m sorry,” Kara mutters, pulling away. “About Commissioner Gordon. I know he was your friend…sometimes.”

Bruce nods and pats her shoulder in a way that makes Kara think he learned how to show human emotion by watching movies.

And Kara marvels at how they’ve just had a  _moment_ , complete with discussion of feelings, but then Bruce adds, in his gruff baritone, “I’m still not training you.”

* * *

So Kara is  _very_  glad that it’s Dick who finds her, winded and shuddering in a dark alley, trying to recover from Shriek’s sonic blast.

“Kara—” he starts, and she tries to put on her best poker face, beneath the bandanna and hood.

“I'm—I’m not—”

“I bought you those shoes after your tore up your other pair running back from Metropolis,” Dick says, pointing to her unremarkable footwear. “You didn’t want to tell Bruce you’d sneaked off to see your cousin.”

It’s true, but. There are plenty of people with blue high tops.

“ _And_  you threw a minivan at Shreeve,” Dick says. And  _that_  is harder to explain away.

“…Are you going to tell Bruce?” There’s no use trying to deny it. Also, she doesn’t want to have to fake a weird accent or anything, she’s tired from the fight and her ears are bleeding.

Dick shrugs. “He’ll figure it out eventually.” (He’s probably right.) “Because only you, Miss 'On-Krypton-we-Rely-on-Diplomacy,’ could throw a punch so  _poorly._ ” (He’s absolutely right.)

“We can’t all be as great as you, Dick,” Kara mutters. “You could maybe  _help_  me, you know.”

Dick pats her shoulder.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

* * *

The better idea is an old clock tower on the east side of Gotham, dilapidated by design.

“Got another student to add to your class,” Dick says as they walk inside. Two girls close to Kara’s age, maybe a little younger, pause what looks like some sort of sparring match, and Barbara Gordon wheels herself over to greet them.

“Honestly, Bruce should pay me,” she snarks. “Hi, Kara.”

“Hi,” Kara waves weakly, a little surprised to discover a hidden vigilante school.

“He does,” Dick reminds her. “He just…doesn’t know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Barbara rolls her eyes before turning to Kara. “Your brother and I have to talk shop for a minute, why don’t you…” she narrows her eyes. “…sit down, actually. You look peaky. Did you even bother to make sure she was okay, Grayson?”

“She’s  _Kryptonian._  She’s fine!”

Kara does as she’s told, but before she can take a seat, the two other girls intercept her, the blonde one extending her hand.

“Hey! Nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Batgirl. This…is also Batgirl. We’re…all Batgirl, actually. It’s like a…'you’re Squidward, I’m Squidward’ thing.”

“…Oh, that’s a Sponegbob joke,” Kara realizes. The blonde beams.

“See, Cass?  _She_  gets it.”

“Who are you?” The other girl—Cass—raises an eyebrow at Kara’s ruined red sweatshirt and muddy jeans.

“Um.” Kara hasn’t given much thought to a name, actually. It’s all happening a little quicker than she anticipated.

She thinks of Clark’s bold and colorful  _Superman_ , and maybe, in another life, she would’ve chosen something similar.  _Superwoman?_ But she hardly knows Clark,  _or_  Superman, for that matter. And she’ll never be a Bat.

Dick’s not a Bat either, come to think of it. Even though people assume his name is a reference to the nocturnal animal.  _Nightwing._

Kara knows better.

“Flamebird.”

Cass nods, but the other girl looks unimpressed.

“…We’ll workshop it.”


End file.
